


you did say you liked peppermint

by wrotelucy



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Snuggling tbh, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3155030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrotelucy/pseuds/wrotelucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on the prompt: pynch christmas fluff where ronan gets adam a peppermint latte for the first time and watch all the dumb christmas movies alone at monmouth</p>
            </blockquote>





	you did say you liked peppermint

**"You want anything?"** Ronan asked, turning away from the woman taking his order. A gust of cold December air shot in through the open window, caressing his buzzed head and causing a shiver to roll down his spine. Then again, Ronan thought, eyeing his passenger, that probably wasn’t so much the wind’s fault.  
 **"Parrish?"** Ronan asked gruffly, nudging the boy beside him with an elbow.

Adam blinked, raising his head to look into the hungry blue eyes of the boy in the driver’s seat. The raging voices ofCabeswater fizzled away, seemingly driven back by the raw power that was Ronan Lynch’s gaze. Adam would’ve thanked him if he knew how. Instead, he just blinked back and responded with a weak,  **"What?"**

Ronan jerked his head back towards the woman had been taking his order, who now looked as though she wanted to come out and set the BMW on fire. Adam, glancing past Ronan, gave her an apologetic look.

 **"I said,"** Ronan continued, waving a hand in front of Adam’s face in an attempt to focus him.  **"Do you want anything?"**

Adam could feel his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. He knew it was empty, save his driver’s license and a 2-for-1 coupon at some lamentable burrito place.  **"No,"** Adam responded after a pause too obvious.  **"I’m OK."**

Ronan Lynch, who specialized in both Adam Parrish and the act of lying, knew very well that Adam was not, by any means, “OK.”

It was winter—nearly Christmas—and Adam Parrish had no family to go to. Ronan didn’t really, either, but he at least had some brothers who were thinking of him. Adam didn’t. He didn’t have the promise of gifts—than again, did he ever?—and he wasn’t going to get to sit down to a nice meal in front of a fireplace hung with stockings. His apartment was also blasphemously cold, and Ronan wasn’t entirely sure that Adam had enough money to feed himself daily. Cabeswater and the search for Glendower had been taking more and more time from Adam’s life, so much so that work and sleep were lacking. While Ronan knew that no amount of, well,  _anything_ would make Adam Parrish “OK”, he at least had to try.

Sighing, Ronan turned away back to read the menu, which advertised a number of breakfast treats in addition to a wide variety of hot drinks.

 **"Do you like peppermint?"** Ronan asked, casually not turning to face Adam.

 **"Yeah, but I don’t want anything** **,”** Adam responded, casually affirming his lie.

 **"It’s not for you, it’s for Gansey—"** Ronan noted quickly before shouting at the woman waiting in the order window,  **"Yeah and uh, one peppermint latte. That’s it."**  The woman replied stiffly with the price, to which Ronan offered up some crumpled bills that definitely represented more than the worth of two cups of coffee. She didn’t attempt to give him change, and Ronan didn’t ask for any. With that done, he drove up to the next window and retrieved the coffees. After half dumping the carrying tray into Adam’s lap—leaving Adam to nearly spill the steaming liquid all over himself—Ronan streaked out of the parking lot and back towards Monmouth Manufacturing.

Pulling into the driveway in the BMWs typical shriek, Ronan threw open the driver’s side door and stepped out into the flurrying snow. Without so much as glancing at Adam—it was a careful practice Ronan had begun to take onto himself—he started striding towards the building. Adam, with one arm carefully cradling the tray of coffees, worked to shove open his car door and step out into the chilly evening air. Steam from the coffee wove like fingers along his throat as Adam turned to move towards Monmouth. Ronan Lynch was staring back at him—a big mistake on his part—mouth slightly ajar, only halfway to the door. Before Adam could manage so much as a quizzical quirk of the brow, Ronan traded up to a smirk, calling out,  **"Move your ass Parrish. Nothing’s worse than cold coffee."**

There were, of course, a number of things worse than cold coffee. Both boys had heard them in their nightmares, seen them, felt them along their jaws, their collarbones, their wrists. Different monsters, yes, but the same in the sort of horror they offered. Pain by any other name.

Ronan turned away, closing the distance between himself and Monmouth. Adam worked carefully to simultaneously catch up, not spill the coffee, and not slip on the now snow-dusted driveway. At a distance, Adam watched Ronan kick in the front door—his hoot of laughter cutting through the otherwise quiet surroundings—and disappear through the mouth-like doorway. Adam quickened his pace, mustering a slow jog to the door, watching the cups of coffee bob up and down in his hands. Cabeswater tugged at the edges of his mind, but he shut it out.  _Not now,_ he thought, moving up the short set of stairs to Monmouth’s entrance.  _Just let me have this._

The question of what ‘this’ was, of course, was not something Adam cared to consider. At least, he thought, not yet.

Stepping into the strange musty warmth of Monmouth Manufacturing’s first floor, Adam managed to hook his foot under the door and kick it closed. Pleased with himself, he took the grand staircase two steps at a time, wobbling only slightly with the squeak or shudder of the loose steps. Reaching the top, Adam delicately maneuvered himself amongst Gansey’s cardboard Henrietta, watching out for the taller specimens, many of which he had already accidentally destroyed on more than one occasion.

 **"Finally!"** Shouted Ronan in his much-too-loud-“indoor voice”, emerging from the bathroom with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in hand, and thus, startling Adam from his concentration. There was a resounding  _crunch_ as Adam came down hard on the Henrietta Public Library, flattening it to the floor.  **"Fuck,"** He swore, and crushed the Henrietta Police Department as he tried to back away.

 **"Double fuck, haha,"** Ronan laughed, pointing at the newly crushed cardboard. Taking some very big steps, Adam managed to disentangle himself from the tangled streets of mini Henrietta. Once freed, he frowned at Ronan.

**"Fuck you; why’d you sneak up on me like that?"**

Ronan gracefully picked his way through the cardboard town, toeing the mini building just because he  _could_ before reaching Adam’s side. Slipping past him, Ronan moved to the dusty counters and threw open one of the drawers, searching for a spoon.

 **"I’d hardly call it sneaking."**  Ronan responded, fingers latching onto his desired utensil.  **"You knew I was going to be here, and it’s not like there’s anyone else here."**

Adam narrowed his eyes at the back of Ronan’s shaved head.  **"How’s Gansey going to get his peppermint latte then?"**

Ronan Lynch tensed. Adam Parrish noticed. Then, Adam Parrish watched as Ronan slowly and deliberately rolled the tension away—shoulder blades moving under his skin, hips rotating, twisting his torso, his neck. Ronan Lynch’s eyes were there again, hungry and mischievous on Adam, blue and hot as the core of a flame. Ronan smirked.

 **"Guess you’ll just have to drink it then, Parrish."**  He gave a flippant wave of the spoon as he moved across the room, bumping shoulders with Adam. Cabeswater whispered. Adam ignored it. **"Can’t let all that money go to waste,"** Ronan added, pushing past Adam, making his way towards the couch.  **"Besides, you did say you liked peppermint."**

Adam let out a sigh, resigning himself to surrender. If Ronan Lynch wanted to give you something, he was going to give it to you one way or another. Adam knew he would do best to remember that. Still, it felt good to feel as though he had some semblance of understanding of the mysterious dream wielding friend of his, even if it was only for a minute. Understanding Ronan made Adam feel as though he was that much closer to understanding himself.

Turning on his heel, he followed Ronan’s path, set the tray down on the coffee table, and threw himself onto the couch beside Ronan. Adam, having misjudged it, landed awkwardly against Ronan, his shoulder tucked against the other boy’s ribs, they’re thighs pressed together. Adam, who enjoyed sitting with this incredible slouch, didn’t so much mind as worry how Ronan felt about it. Moving away could imply some kind of slight or distaste, while sitting upright would be both uncomfortable and leave Ronan’s arm practically around Adam’s shoulder. But staying would mean—well,  _something_. Unchecked proximity was not something either of them liked to dabble in, and Adam wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready for  _something_. Cabeswater was growing louder. Leaves fluttered against Adam’s hair, picking like fingers. Adam closed his eyes, trying to quell it, trying to muster the strength to make a decision, to say something.

But Ronan spoke first.

 **"For the record, I don’t give a fuck."** Then, as if he could be talking about anything else, Ronan added,  **"Like, sit wherever you want, however you want, whatever."**

Cabeswater went silent. Adam opened his eyes, careful not to stir. 

 **"OK** **,”** He said. Adam pretended not to notice the rise and fall of Ronan’s ribs, the steadying of the beat of his heart. Snatching up the remote at his side, Ronan turned on the TV, pretending not to notice Adam noticing.

 **"I couldn’t care less. Just stop breathing like your giving birth. It’s fucking irritating."** Ronan flipped idly through the channels, not looking for anything in particular. Then, spotting a familiar holiday movie, took pause, watching the little puppet reindeer jerk about in the coined ‘winter wonderland’. He remembered Matthew having a special affection for this one.

 **"This alright? My little brother loves it. Kind of old but definitely one of the best,"** Ronan said, voice meticulously nonchalant, not a trace of nostalgia in sight. Against his ribs, he felt Adam’s head bob up and down.

 **"Sure. I haven’t seen a lot of Christmas movies anyway."**  Then, feeling as though he owed an explanation, Adam noted,  **"Christmas wasn’t that big of a deal with my parents."**

Ronan Lynch could just picture it. Robert Parrish, a drunk as usual but dressed up in some raggedy old Santa costume, looking like a bum. Moth-ridden stockings hanging on one of the walls Mr. Parrish usually tried to put his son’s head through. A wilting Christmas tree, devoid of decoration, dying slowly in the corner. Too much eggnog, unresolved tension, Adam with a broken nose. Ronan Lynch’s stomach rolled with a sort of nausea as he tried to put the images—potentially, the subject of his next nightmare—out of his mind.

 **"Guess we’ll just have to marathon a whole bunch, then."** Ronan offered in a  _totally_  offhand way.  **"Educate you some."**

Adam kicked up his feet on to the coffee table, forcing his grin into a tight-lipped half-smile.  **"Sounds good to me."** **  
**

There was a brief pause. The movie played. Rudolph was asking out the girl he liked.

**"Ronan?"**

**"Yeah?"**

A beat, a beat, a beat.

**"Can you pass me my coffee?"**

Ronan smirked and, drawing his arm off the back of the couch, leaned forward to collect their drinks. Handing the peppermint latte to Adam, he settled his own drink between his legs and took up the ice cream and spoon at his side. Adam took a sip of his drink, which was now at the perfect temperature for consumption. The peppermint was rich, making his lips tingle with the mix of warm and cold.

 **"You want some ice cream?"** Ronan asked, opening the Ben & Jerry’s container. Jamming his spoon in, he drew out a large scoop in shoved it in his mouth. From below, Adam watched Ronan’s jaw work through the ball of ice cream, swirling it slowly on the inside of his cheek. Something inside Adam hummed, his mouth going dry. Averting his gaze, he took another sip of his peppermint latte.

 **"Maybe in a little while."**  Adam answered and then, before he lost his nerve, added,  **"Thanks for the latte."**

Ronan took a breath too long to respond. Everything was so obvious. But they played pretend—as they always did. All of them did. Noah had his bedroom with it’s unused bed. Gansey had his cardboard town. Blue had all of them. Ronan Lynch and Adam Parrish had each other.

 **"It was for Gansey, Parrish. Your broke ass just got lucky,"** Ronan said, not a trace of affection present in his voice. It was a real talent. Adam hoped to learn it from him someday. Adam watched as Ronan’s arm, like a thin, shadowy wing, floated overhead and took it’s space once more on the back of the couch. Ronan pressed his side a little more firmly against Adam’s head.  **"Now stop talking and watch the goddamn movie."**

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://babellamy.tumblr.com/post/103795838868/prompt-since-youre-lookin-for-prompts-u-should)
> 
> kudos are love but comments are life c:


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